


A World of Trouble

by book_go



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: AU, Angst, Humor, KoC AU, Pregnancy, Self-Doubt, after eog this is so AU it is ridiculous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23609422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_go/pseuds/book_go
Summary: “How could this even happen? Did I develop a tolerance to the tea?”“Impossible. You had to have been... forgetful in your use of it.”“Forgetful? We never... oh.” At her mentor’s curious look, Nahri looked down at her feet with a blush. “The garden.” She could feel the exasperated look Nisreen threw at her.“The garden?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Nahri nodded, still looking down. “YOUR UNCLE’S GARDEN?”Nahri must be an absolute fool for Nisreen’s fool proof methods to fail, but no one ever said Nahri was smart. Now, she must find a way to survive in Daevabad while also being a mother (a situation she has no idea how to handle) and dealing with the consequences of unknowingly thwarting plans. The loneliness isn’t helping either. But Nahri will be damned if she lets herself be part of somebody else's plan again.
Relationships: Darayavahoush e-Afsin/Nahri e-Nahid, Jamshid e-Pramukh/Muntadhir al Qahtani, Nahri e-Nahid/Muntadhir al Qahtani
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	1. A Careless Mistake

It took her an embarrassingly long time to notice. Between her duties as a healer, a religious figure and the emir’s wife, the light but steady and fast beat in her abdomen was engulfed by the noise of the outer world. In the end, despite her endless grumbling to Nisreen about it, it was the fire altar that brought her enough stillness to notice the change.

She didn’t know what drove her to it. Usually, she tended to her mother’s old fire altar half-heartedly. Her movements had become smooth and confident, but it was for show more often than not. Her people worshipped the very ground she stepped on and it felt wrong not to at least try to follow their customs. But there was something missing, a connection that just wasn’t being reached as she filled oil lamps, burned cedar wood, marked her forehead with ash and spread her hands in prayer, her servants shuffling around the room to prepare for a new day. 

That fateful day, the light paddling of feet, the shuffling of fabric, inhalation, expiration, the sound of too many people proved impossible for Nahri. 

“Could you give me a moment! Please!” It came out far harsher than she had intended. The two girls looked at her with wide, fearful eyes and she could hear their hearts beating wildly. “I just need a moment to pray and everything is so loud. I’ll call you back in a minute. Please.” The girls stopped what they were doing and left with a quiet “Of course, my lady.” 

With a sigh, Nahri turned back to the altar. Maybe you’ll work today. So she closed her eyes and ran the prayers Kartir taught her through her mind. Soon, however, they faded away and she was engulfed in the blackness of her empty mind. All that she could hear were the steady sounds of her heart and deep breathing. And another heart. Nahri scrunched her nose and shook her head. Probably just footsteps from outside. Quiet! Back to normal. In, ba-dum. Out, ba-dum. In, ba-dum. Ou- pit-pat. 

“What the hell?” She closed her eyes tighter and willed herself to focus on the hindering sound. It came again, the unmistakable pit-pat of a small and fast heartbeat, one she had heard plenty of times in the bellies of expectant mothers. Behind it, she heard her own shafit heart speeding up and the blood rushing past her ears. 

“NISREEN!” 

“Why are you always doing something stupid? Why can we not go through one day of no surprises, no accidents, no “oops, I think I did something bad!” I feel like I’m your nanny, not your mentor!” Nahri was sat on her bed, looking very much the part of a scolded child as Nisreen paced in front of her. It was only the third time she’d seen her lose control like this. The first time was when Nahri first began training and kept horrifying her fellow Daevas with her unbelieving ways. The second was when she stole an enslaved djinn (in her defense, she planned to free said djinn. And Nisreen was not the only one angry at her for it so did it really count? Nahri decided it didn’t).

Nahri finally built up the courage to speak. “How could this even happen? Did I develop a tolerance to the tea?”

“Impossible. You had to have been... forgetful in your use of it.”

“Forgetful? We never... oh.” At her mentor’s curious look, Nahri looked down at her feet with a blush. “The garden.” She could feel the exasperated look Nisreen threw at her. 

“The garden?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Nahri nodded, still looking down. “YOUR UNCLE’S GARDEN?” This part was yelled. “Have you no shame?”

“Yes, I do! Of course I do! My husband, on the other hand, is a different story,” she replied, taking a quick peak to see the horrified look on her mentor’s face. 

It took Nisreen a moment to recover from this new knowledge. She sat on the first chair she could find and put her head on her knees. Nahri was fairly sure she could hear her holding back sobs. 

“Can we... could I... is it possible to...” Nisreen looked up at her, still bent down, waiting for her to finish the sentence. “End it?” 

“End it?” Her mentor looked at her in confusion, before realization dawned upon her face. On a normal day, Nahri would have been inclined to laugh at the way her mouth shaped into an “O”, Nisreen’s normal facade of calmness broken. But today, she couldn’t feel much more than the panic in her lungs. “The only way to end a Nahid pregnancy would be to kill you. The fetus develops self-healing and protective powers from conception. We’d need to cut off its source of life.” 

“Even if the mother is shafit?” Nahri couldn’t help but asking. Nisreen closed her eyes in annoyance. 

“The king has already confirmed your blood-purity. The marid curse hasn’t affected your powers, so it shouldn’t affect your child’s.” Her reply was court, Nahri’s lack of confidence in her blood a constant headache. 

“But what if-“ 

“No, Nahri. Are you claiming your mother, a descendant from a family dedicated to enforcing Suleiman’s law, especially when it comes to human copulation,” she spit out the word, “laid with a human, to produce the one thing she hated the most?” Nahri had no response to that. She couldn’t admit how much the words stung. “Besides, we are healers. We heal, not kill. I know the words rhyme, my lady, but I would imagine that you’re old enough to know the difference.” With that, Nisreen stood up from her chair across the room, and faced the balcony, her back turned to Nahri. 

In the meantime, Nahri sat on her bed, slouched, once again trying to hold back tears caused by Nisreen’s words. She knew that her mentor did not mean to hurt her like this. But until now, Nahri had blissfully ignored the part of her that was suspicious of the official story. The part of her that told her that maybe, she hadn’t been born right before her mother had been brutally slaughtered, that maybe her mother wasn’t returning from a regular trip to Zariaspa. Maybe Manizheh had left her on the banks of the Nile, too ashamed to bring her shafit child back to her city her ancestors built, weeks before she’d died. In a way, it had been much easier to believe her parents had been neglectful bastards who abandoned her, and only slightly easier to imagine her mother dying a heroic death trying to protect her brother and child. And in the midst of all that, nestled in her lungs right next to the loneliness she carried around constantly, was the fear that if the truth came out, Nisreen would leave her, too.

“So what do we do now?” She couldn’t help her voice sounding small. She heard Nisreen sigh and walk towards her. Her mentor sat next to her on the bed and put her arms around Nahri, a rare comfort in this city. One she usually would have rejoiced in. At the moment, however, she was too scared and hurt to feel any warmth. 

“Oh, child. I know it’s frightening and unplanned, but we’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Wait a little longer to tell your husband, and then enjoy the beauty of becoming a new mother.” At Nahri’s lack of reaction, she continued, “I know it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have scared you off of having children entirely. I just didn’t want you to fall to the Qahtanis.” At that, Nahri’s hands shook and she began to take in trembling breaths.

“Of course that’s what everyone is worried about. Not about what matters. How am I supposed to raise a child when I had no childhood? How am I supposed to be a mother when I didn’t have one? How am I supposed to give my child a loving home in a palace filled with people who hate me?” Her voice shook and broke, the tears flowing freely. Nisreen’s embrace tightened and she could feel herself leaning into it, taking some solace anywhere she could. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Nahri sniffling into Nisreen’s dress as her mentor lightly rocked her. 

“We need to get to the infirmary,” Nahri suddenly said, standing up and prying Nisreen’s arms from around her. She walked across the room to her closet. 

“Are you sure? You can take the day, if you need to. I won’t call you unless it’s crucial.” Nahri shook her head at that.

“No. I need to work. I won’t feel better until I do,” she said as she wiped her nose on a handkerchief before picking out a tunic and pants. “Besides, I came here to be healer above all else. No point in wasting my time crying.” 

A week later, a letter made its way to the snow covered ground at a certain Banu Nahida’s feet. She picked it up, not missing the curious emerald eyes fixed on her. The handwriting was familiar, one that, for the past century, had not failed her. Except this time.


	2. A Private Announcement

As it was, Nisreen did leave her. Supposedly, it was only for two weeks. She needed to take care of a personal matter in Zariaspa. It had been exactly 18 days and 7 hours and Nisreen was yet to return. And yet, life had to go on.

There was no way around it. She would have to tell him tonight. Nahri stood in front of her mirror, not fully clothed yet, staring at her reflection as she’d done very day the last four weeks. The bump wasn’t very large, and if anything, Muntadhir might comment on her finally gaining some weight. But she knew that the moment he put her hands on it, he’d know. He’d had enough experience with women’s bodies to know it wasn’t fat. With one last sigh, Nahri let her maids finish their work.

When it came to the powder, she refused it. More than ever before, tonight she could not pretend to be someone else.

“Are you ready, my lady?” asked one of the girls.

“Not yet. Just a moment.” Nahri looked around, hoping that Nisreen had snuck in when she wasn’t looking. But her mentor was nowhere to be seen, as distant in her absence as she was in person. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, there was no need for Nisreen’s special tea anymore, and Nahri had been at the palace long enough to know how to dress. Still, she felt a little stung. Well... her eyes stung. The rest of her just trembled slightly. “Let’s just go.”

The walk to her husband’s chambers had never been more intimidating. It seemed that the hallways had gotten longer, the shadows darkened. Every sound made Nahri jump. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it or if the palace was actually making the floor unsteady. When they finally reached the grand tents that decorated Muntadhir’s rooms, her guards bowed and turned around, taking their places. Nahri took a steadying breath and continued her walk at a steady pace.

The last time she’d been there, she found that Muntadhir had forgotten about their plans, so her visit had not lasted very long. After all, there was little Nahri could do to save her husband from the clutches of a wickedly good looking pure blood woman, even if his moans had been greatly alarming.

The door opened before Nahri could knock. Muntadhir stood in front of her, dressed handsomely (fully dressed, for once) with a relieved smile on his face.

“I thought you were going to leave me hanging again.”

“There was no one dying in the infirmary tonight. I figured I could make some time for you.” She smiled sweetly at him. Despite the many unpleasant moments in their marriage, he had a way of her feel at ease. He was a good natured person, and fun to be around. And after their shared nights, Nahri would be lying if she said she didn’t feel warm when she saw him. He did have a wonderful... smile.

“I’m glad to be worth your time, wife.” Muntadhir led her inside, where the room was dim. “I’m finally opening this four hundred year old Zariaspan wine. I thought you’d be the perfect person to share it with.“

“I’m afraid I will have to pass on the wine tonight. Although, I do hope you enjoy it. Four hundred years is a long wait,” Nahri replied, as she sat on a cushion next to her husband.

“You can’t still be upset about your first meeting with Zaynab, can you?” She could hear the exasperation in his voice and swallowed thickly. “I know she’s a little hard to get used to, but she-"

“No, that’s not it. Although I do have some news that may need celebrating. In my opinion at least. Not everyone seems to be very happy about it.” Once more, a certain Daeva slithered her way into Nahri's mind. Then, a second Daeva, taller, thinner and far more prejudiced and powerful. Then a third, this one with emerald eyes and a deadly scourge. A weapon used to cleanse the world of "dirt-bloods" like she and her child would be. Her hands began trembling around her cup.

“What is it?” Muntadhir asked casually, his attention now on the wine. “Wait! First, let me tell you about this meeting I had with Wajed today.”

The hour passed by quickly, with Nahri listening as Muntadhir gleefully told his story. He might not even remember who Yaqub was to her, but Nahri made sure to learn everything she could about the people around her. She hoped it was a skill he would soon learn, as well. It would be the only thing keeping his head attached to his shoulders once Suleiman's seal graced his brow.

“Can you believe he threatened to poison me?!” The conversation had moved on to an Ayaanle trader, and Nahri felt the need to tease, his demeanor reflecting that of the spoiled children she’d seen throwing tantrums around the castle. Would her child be one of them? Throwing tantrums over sweets? With Muntadhir as the father, she didn’t hold much hope.

“No! What did you say?”

“I was going to threaten him back but _then_ it hit me.”

“A rock?”

“What? No, an epiphany. Pay attention, Nahri.” Nahri nodded dutifully, donning the face of an avid student. He was too easy. "I’m Geziriyan. It's highly unlikely I will ever get wounded by a zulfiqar because my people are loyal. I am also married to the last Nahid in the world. So that means...” Here he looked at her expectantly.

“That means...” Nahri trailed off, not sure where he was getting at.

“It means you can heal me from anything. Which makes me practically invincible.” Nahri nodded in understanding. Muntadhir, satisfied, turned around to fill his jade cup with wine again and hers with karkade. She thought maybe she shouldn't have waited so long, but maybe he would take the news easier if he was drunk.

“Well, in that case, you’re in trouble.”

“Excuse me?” He turned around quickly, wine sloshing dangerously from his cup.

“I have no particular interest in healing you. And even if I did, I am very busy. You’d probably be stuck with one of my helpers for a very long time before I could help you.” At his long stare, she added “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she’s a pretty one.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, can’t I? And how do you know I’m not already poisoning you? Perhaps I’m doing it slowly, so when you become king and die, no one will question it.”

“You would have already killed me if you wanted to.”

“Why would I do that? I get nothing from killing an emir when there’s a second son in line.” Nahri sipped her karkade slowly, looking at Muntadhir from the above the rim of her cup. He seemed genuinely concerned for a moment, but then an unimpressed look fell over his face.

“Hilarious. And I took you for the throat slitting type.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t slit your throat. Too messy. And I’m a patient woman. I can play the long game.” Some joy coursed through her at his annoyed look.

“I don’t know who lied to you, but you are absolutely not patient. If you wanted me dead, I’d be ingredients for your potions by now and no one would be the wiser. Now what did you want to tell me?” He sat on the cushion next to her and took a cup of his wine.

“I’m pregnant.” He spit the wine back into the cup. “What? The wine wasn’t good?”

“You’re pregnant.” He blinked a few times before continuing. “Is it mine?”

“I’m not sure. I have twenty concubines hidden in the Grand Temple and seven others in infirmary. It could be anyone’s,” Nahri deadpanned.

“I knew it!” _Smack_. “Fine, I’m sorry!” He held his arm defensively for a moment longer, looking pensive. “So it’s really happening, huh?”

Nahri stayed silent, not entirely sure what he was talking about but feeling the same. Her life in Daevabad would become real now. She would wake up one day soon and stop wondering if it was all real. She would become a permanent fixture in the city. Someday, she might even have a shrine dedicated to her in the Grand Temple. Her child might might pray at her feet there (not that Nahri had ever done so at Manizheh’s shrine, although she did make a note to do so now).


	3. A Barbed family Picnic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a while. I think at this point it's kind of obvious that I really like minor characters and this story is utterly, ridiculously AU. Buckle in for the ride. I'm about to make a mess of this

Despite the absence of her aide and mentor, Nahri was determined to get her hospital up and running before the child arrived. As such, the family picnic Muntadhir had organized became an awfully complicated ordeal. Nahri had spent the past few hours trying to decide what to bring up first, the hospital or the baby. Happy news first or last? By the time she arrived at the balcony, her mind was spinning and she realized she had forgotten to consider another pressing matter. 

The food. 

There was no denying it looked delicious, and in the past, Nahri had no issue taking advantage of her royal status to savor the taste. That was exactly what she longed to do at the moment, but her nose was getting in the way. She took another sip of her tea, hoping it would calm her rolling stomach. Unfortunately, the chai barely made it down her throat before it changed direction. She quickly put the cup down and closed her eyes, focusing on not vomiting.

“Did Muntadhir tell you we found a troupe of conjurers, Abba?” Zaynab asked, her voice pulling Nahri out of her focus. As the princess continued to talk, she called a servant over. 

"Could I have some ginger tea, please? Thank you." Nahri spoke in a hushed voice, hoping to not attract attention, but as she turned away from the servant, she caught Hatset's eye. The queen's golden eyes were unreadable and she quickly turned away, not ready to face the questions. Instead, she forced her attention back on the conversation, her hands nervously tracing the golden embroidery on the napkin in her lap.

“I hope they’ve signed a contract, then,” Ghassan was saying. “The last few Eids, I’ve found the entertainers I’ve hired suddenly lured away to Ta Ntry by promises of fees that are mysteriously always twice the amount we’d agreed to." Hatset only smiled sweetly back at him, turning her attention on feeding Ali. 

Muntadhir cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt this greatly compelling conversation, but I- _Nahri and I_ have some news to share." Well, at least she didn't have to decide which to bring up first. She looked up from the napkin she had been fidgeting with and faced the curious stares of her in-laws. Muntadhir was looking at her expectantly. Drawing up and taking a deep breath, she hoped her voice didn't sound too shaky.

"I am with child." There was a pregnant pause, then everyone turned to look at Ghassan. He looked at her intently for a moment, then a grin broke on his face.

"Congratulations, Emir, Banu Nahida. When are you due?" 

"The child should be arriving during Navasatem." Nahri was not comfortable at all with how deceivingly mild the king's reaction was. She could see behind the smile, the inscrutable darkness that lingered behind the familial joy he liked to portray in front of his daughter (Nahri was confident that he had no trouble letting the darkness seep out in front of his sons). 

"One more thing to celebrate, I suppose. We'll have to begin preparing right away."

"What a joy. A child during Navasatem. You are truly blessed, Banu Nahida," Hatset finally spoke. Nahri mumbled a quiet "thank you".

"You must make time to meet with me about the nursery, Nahri. I refuse to allow my niece or nephew to come into this world without style," Zaynab piped in. "Do you know the gender yet? I would like to begin picking out a color scheme."

"No, I do not know yet. But-"

"You may appoint more aides in the infirmary. I imagine you'll need to lessen your work load," Ghassan cut her off.

"Well, actually I wanted to speak to you about that. What I need is more doctors and space to ease traffic and train said doctor. Like a hospital," Nahri blurted out. If she thought the Qahtanis had been quiet before, they were deathly silent now. Except for Ali. 

"What Banu Nahri means is that after learning of the existence of the old Nahida hospital, she thought it would be a good idea to rebuild it. It would create more jobs, lessen the traffic in the infirmary, create more income for the state..." Ali trailed off, thumbing through his notes.

"And how, pray tell, would you run the hospital and the infirmary and raise my grandchild?" Ghassan's voice had turned to ice.

"That's where the doctors come in. I could begin training students to aid me and take care of the basics, like Nisreen does. Basically prepare the patients for me to do my Nahid magic." The conversation went on, with Muntadhir getting more irritated, Hatset promising to help and Ghassan... well, he was just excited to see if his gamble would pay off or if he would find another reason to keep Nahri quiet. 

#

"That certainly didn't go as I expected," Muntadhir grumbled. Nahri glared at him. He had insisted on accompanying her back to her rooms, and had proved to be nothing but a nuisance ever since. 

"Well if you were not so set on acting like a child whose cake was too small at his birthday party, perhaps it would have gone better." They rounded the corner and Nahri could see the doors to her apartment.

"And perhaps if you didn't conspire with my brother, I wouldn't need to behave like a child!" Though they were trained to remain neutral, the guards by her door couldn't help but stare at the sound of her husband's raised voice. Nahri turned her glare to them. They got the message.

"We were not conspiring," she replied in a hushed tone, hoping he would do the same."We were discussing the financial matters of a project that I am interested in. We are business partners!"

They slammed through the doors of her room together.

"Yes, I know all about Ali's _business_ partners!"

"Oh, would you stop it!" They were in the middle of the room facing each other now, both yelling. "Ever since Ali's been back, it's all been about how Ali does this and Ali does that and Muntadhir doesn't like it-"

"Oh so now it's about me!"

"Isn't it always about you? I am about to bring a child into this god forsaken city and instead of preparing for that, I'm dealing with your daddy issues!"

"So don't build the hospital! You don't have enough time for that!"

"You don't understand, do you? This hospital is supposed to be something that will make Daevabad a better place for _our_ child. It's supposed to be a project that keeps his or her uncle busy and his or her father calm so when he or she arrives, their only living family is not at each others throats!" Muntadhir paused at this, looking conflicted. In all honesty, she had not thought of the hospital in that way, but it seemed to calm her husband down. 

Muntadhir started pacing, one hand on his hip, the other in his beard. He did a lap once around Nahri, looking only at the floor. Nahri held her breath when he walked towards, then passed, the dagger that was thrown on the floor. He stopped when he was in front of her again and looked her over slowly, taking in the worried expression and the rigid stance. 

"Alright. I'll give you my support," Muntadhir finally spoke, quietly. "Publicly, at the Temple if you still need it. But the moment that I get a bad feeling, I'm shutting this down. Got it?" 

Nahri could only nod, her guard still up. Muntadhir sighed and walked closer. He hesitantly put his hands on her arms, as if waiting for permission, and when Nahri didn't complain, her embraced her. Nahri hated it, it felt forced and false, as her whole marriage did, but it was the only physical affection she had received in a long time. She hugged him back. 

"I'll try to keep calm, all right? This is... this is a big deal. I know we don't get along but we're in this together. Alright?" He spoke quietly, his word mumbled by her hair. Nahri just nodded again, feeling slightly faint. 

With a final squeeze, Muntadhir let her go and nodded his goodbye. He left wordlessly and as soon as the doors were closed behind him, Nahri collapsed on the closest cushions. This day had not gone as expected. At all. 

#

_Somewhere in the desert_

"There will be soldiers stationed all around the city, and the ones that are part of the Daeva Brigade will be stationed in the palace."

"And how will we enter?"

"Through the front entrance. If you are correct and can give me my... restricted form long enough to cross, we should not have any trouble."

"And me? Do you think anyone will stop me?"

"I don't believe so, Grand Wazir. We'll head straight to the palace and ask for audience with the king. That shouldn't be too difficult, my lady. If he recognized Nahri immediately, he will be able to do the same with you."

Banu Manizheh nodded slowly, perusing the city map intently. "And you are sure this will work?" Her black eyes met emerald ones. He nodded. "And you are sure Nahri will be indisposed then?" She turned to her aide. 

"She will be too far along to be able to do much." At the mention of the pregnancy, the older woman clearly cringed. It was a delicate and unpleasant matter than not many spoke of in the camp. 

"We'll go on the third day of Navasatem. They will all be tired from a night of festivities to do much damage should they find us suspicious."

"Yes, Banu Nahida."

"Nisreen? You should return to Daevabad and keep an eye on my daughter."

"But if she goes back now and the king is unpleased with our return, Nisreen will be the first punished for not warning him. He'll make the connection." Nisreen only looked between the Grand Wazir and her Banu Nahida, anxious to return to the city but fearful of punishment. She'd healed enough patients from the dungeons to know it was a place she never wanted to visit. 

At last, Manizheh nodded. "You are right. Nisreen will remain here. Send word back that you will be taking longer, and have Iyaan report back on Jamshid as well."

"Yes, Banu Nahida."


	4. Change of Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short, very late chapter this week. I'll aim for a weekly update but right now I have a question-> would anyone want to read a pic about what if Dara and Manizheh hadn't attacked during Navasatem? As in everything is canon until the second day of Navasatem? A plot bunny has bitten me in the butt and I wonder if anyone would like me to develop it into a story. 
> 
> May the fires burn brightly for you all!

Only a week later, Nahri was confident that by the end of her pregnancy, she would kill someone. She had barely gotten into bed before she roused again for an emergency procedure. After hours of performing an operation she hardly familiar with, all her dreams and aspirations of getting an hour of sleep in her sweet, soft bed were crashed by Jamshid. It seemed murder would begin pretty early into her pregnancy. _If he asks me for another session, I swear to all that is holy I will-_

“Banu Nahida! I’m glad I could catch up with you. There is something I need to tell you.” At her dead stare, he added “I brought sweets as tribute?” _Either I’ll be a murderer or a fat cow by the end of this. Decisions, decisions._ With a sigh, she led him to her rooms. She supposed the cushions would be a good compromise for her bed.

As Jamshid struggled to make himself comfortable on her cushions, she poured the tea and tried to ignore the smell of the baked goods. Instead, she honed in on Jamshid.   
  


“You know, I still think we should try some type of water therapy. If just being in a bath calms your muscles, I can’t even imagine the benefits of swimming,” Nahri spoke gently. Jamshid had finally found a good spot and was looking at her like an unsure child. “It would hurt less than our sessions.

“Nahri, I’m a Daeva.”

“So am I and I swim like a fish.” Jamshid smiled at that. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two scrolls.

“Even so, I think this might be a more pressing matter. A messenger brought these an hour ago. I thought you might want to know immediately.” At his soft nod, Nahri reached across the short table to take the letter from him. As she read the first one, from Kaveh, Jamshid opened container of the feteer, the smell almost distracting Nahri completely.

“So Kaveh won’t be returning for another month? That gives us time to get started on rebuilding the hospital, then. The less opposition, the smoother this will go.” Relieved, Nahri took a bite of the feteer with honey, sighing at the taste and glad the morning sickness was running late today. Jamshid, her new partner in crime, only smiled.

Rousing herself from her food-induced euphoria, Nahri opened the second scroll. This time, the handwriting was very familiar. Nahri read the letter eagerly, and once she reached the end, she read it a second time. She took a moment to make sure no traces of disappointment were left on her face before she looked back up at Jamshid. His smile was now gone and he was looking at her slightly worried.

“So she is not coming back?” Nahri finally asked, hoping her voice was not shaking. “Do you know why? She doesn’t say on here.”

“I know as much as you do. That letter is all I’ve gotten from her since she left.” Jamshid’s voice was quiet. Nahri knew he would miss her too. But this wasn’t the time to miss anyone.

  
“This… is not good.” Jamshid gave her a strange look, and Nahri continued. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to run the infirmary without Nisreen, let alone the hospital. And I don’t even want to think about having a child in this.” With a sigh, Nahri leaned back until she was laying down, the cushions doing wonders for her aching back. In a burst of petulant energy, she held a pillow over her face. Maybe if she closed her eyes, it would all go away. She could hear Jamshid get up and settle again next to her. With a little groan, he was laying down next to her.

“So, what’s the plan, then? Postpone the hospital?” he asked, gently. Nahri shook her head under the pillow. “I figured. Drag Nisreen back?” Jamshid thought he heard her say _I wish_ , but Nahri’s voice was mumbled by the pillow. “Get a new Nisreen?” At that, Nahri threw the pillow off her face. She could sense the panic in Jamshid, and she let a mischievous smile cross her face.

Sweetly, she spoke. “Jamshid?” He nodded with a gulp. “Would you like to be my new Nisreen?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I was going to ask you to begin apprenticing as soon as possible, but as it is, I might as well train to be assistant as well.” Jamshid just stared at her, eyes wide open. “Think about it! All the nasty, gnarly procedures we would get to do together. All those experiments we’ll get to study together. You, looking through the archived texts with only the skill a failed priest could have, and I, making all your Nahid fantasies come true. And in the end, when I die of some grossly unnatural cause, you’ll get to teach my kids and the next generation. The Nisreen to my Manizheh. What do you think?” Nahri looked at him, her eyes hopeful as Jamshid internalized her rant.

“Dying of old age never crossed your mind, huh?”

“Three hundred years is a lot, Jamshid.” They both chuckled at that.

“What about my legs? Won’t I just hold you back?”

“As I said, three hundred years is a lot. We’ll start off with you learning things sitting, and as you heal, which I know you will, we’ll adjust. Besides, I still have a few tricks to try out with you.”

“This is just a bribe to get me to do those weird swimming lessons, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Where do I get a swimming suit?”

A weight left Nahri’s shoulders at that, and she couldn’t help but tear up a little. A little embarrassed, and feeling Jamshid’s kind gaze on her, she looked away and wiped her eyes. “It’s just pregnancy hormones. No need to panic.” They both chuckled at that.

Jamshid left soon after that, but Nahri was too tired to even relocate to her bed. Instead, she laid on the cushions on the floor, looking up at the ceiling and basking in the feeling of hope. The first in a while.


End file.
